


Catch A Falling Star

by doorwaytoparadise, Z A Dusk (snakeandmoon)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale/Crowley First Kiss (Good Omens), Collaboration, Community: Do It With Style Events, Cornwall, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Angst, Rom com vibes, Romance, and it shows, fic with art, the author used to live in cornwall and loved it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29067843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise, https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakeandmoon/pseuds/Z%20A%20Dusk
Summary: Austel Fell is mostly happy with his life in the tiny Cornish village of St Steren. He loves his friends, he enjoys running the village stores, and he appreciates the laid-back pace of life. Sometimes in the quiet moments he thinks it might be nice to find someone to curl up with on a winter night, but eligible bachelors don’t just fall out of the sky … do they?Alpha Serpentis is not a terribly well-behaved star. When he goes for a wander across the sky, the other stars send him to earth to learn that actions have consequences.Will Alpha Serpentis fall straight into Austel’s arms? Will Austel believe this eccentric, mysterious man is who he says he is? Is this a match made in Heaven, or a case of star-crossed lovers?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 111
Kudos: 114
Collections: Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang





	1. Serpens

**Author's Note:**

> I was delighted to be paired with [doorwaytoparadise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise/works?fandom_id=27251507) for the Do It With Style Events Reverse Bang! Their art is gorgeous and I fell in love with their story idea - Crowley as a fallen star, and Aziraphale as the very surprised human who finds him. I'm delighted that I got to bring it to life :-)
> 
> Thank you as always to my wonderful beta [Mira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos) for helping me polish it!
> 
> Fic updates every week on a Friday :)

**Up In The Stars**

“Ye cannot simply wander, Alpha Serpentis.”

“Why not? Don’t the rest of you get bored, always doing what you’re told?”

There was a sort of collective sigh, as if the rest of the stars in the constellation of Serpens were weary and wished Alpha Serpentis would be less … troublesome.

“Look, no one has to know. I just nipped out for a walk.”

“A walk? Stars do not walk. It is thy role to stay in thine assigned position at all times. Thou knowst this.”

“It’s a big universe. Don’t you ever want to see more of it?”

“Stars do not long for more.” The celestial voice of Iota Serpentis was cold and ancient, echoing with eons of celestial history. “Stars perform their assigned roles for as long as necessary.”

“We do not draw attention to the fact that we are sentient. To do so could interfere with the development of life down below.” Epsilon sounded bored, as if tired of explaining such things.

“This is not your first infraction,” Iota continued. “One million years ago, you started dimming and illuminating yourself in a most garish fashion. You got away with it then, but now the humans are advanced enough to track our movements and brightness. By the time your light reaches them, their instruments will be sensitive enough to notice that you vanished one night.”

“They’ll put it down to instrument error. You worry too much, Iota. No one will suspect that a star simply vanished one night.”

“Stars do not worry. But we cannot let you get away with such reckless behaviour. You are here before the Celestial Council today so we can inform you of your fate. You are to be sent to earth. There you will live without your powers, as any human. In this way, you will learn that your actions have consequences.”

“We cannot completely strip you of your powers - that is not possible, as they are part of your nature,” Epsilon added. “But should you choose to use your powers, you will instantly be called back here. Thus shall we judge at that time whether or not you have learned your lesson. If you have not, you will be sent back until you do.”

“Won’t their sensitive instruments pick up that I’ve vanished? Isn’t that the entire problem?”

Iota’s voice held a note of chilly mirth. “We have called in a replacement - a star out of range of their instruments. As far as they are concerned, all will be as it always was.”

“But not for you,” Epsilon added, with a note of heavy boredom. “I tire of this. The sentence has been passed. Star Alpha Serpentis, I sentence you to fall to earth. Let this be the lesson you need.”

“Well, that’s that then. Nice knowing you.”

The next thing Alpha Serpentis knew, he was hurtling towards a distant blue-green planet, a tiny glimmering jewel in the endless night sky, with no idea of what would happen to him when he landed.

* * *

**St Steren, Cornwall, 2018**

“Rehearsal tonight, Austel! Don’t forget now, love!” Tracy called, as she swept from A Z Fell’s Village Stores in a cloud of patchouli scent and sequined scarves, carrying two bags full of fresh vegetables. “Blasted supplier let me down.” She’d told Austel as she was purchasing her goods. “Thank goodness you always have fresh veg.”

“I have everything, dear lady.” Austel had told her truthfully. Being the only grocery shop in St Steren meant that Austel had gathered an eclectic collection of stock “because you never know what someone might need.” 

Antique books and tartan cushions nestled comfortably among the fresh vegetables, local eggs, tinned food, and the obligatory tide tables. Fishing tackle and rods filled one corner, while the window display included antique silver snuff boxes and several scarves and hats knitted by members of the local Knit and Natter group. Not to mention that Austel was also the local postmaster, and the stores had a post office counter next to the main register. 

He and Anathema were run off their feet during the summer when all the tourists descended, and Austel was rather glad that closing at 4:00 PM was quite the done thing in St Steren. There was just enough time to nip home for a cup of tea and a quick supper of fish and chips from the Star Chip Shop down on the harbour, before heading out to the weekly rehearsal of St Steren’s Singers. 

It had taken Austel a few years to pluck up the courage to join the Singers. In his family it was common knowledge that his brother Gabriel was the one with the singing voice. Actually, it was common knowledge that all his siblings excelled in something or another, while Austel was, in his mother’s words, “content to waste your life living like a bumpkin.” 

Someone as status-conscious as his mother could never understand the beauty of community and friendship you find in a place like St Steren. Local legend had it that the town called in those who were ready to settle down and find a family, while those who wanted to bend the village to their own ways would soon find themselves leaving. 

Austel’s favourite aunt, Agnes, was born and bred in St Steren, and Austel had fallen in love with the tiny seaside village on his summer holiday visits there from the larger town of Truro. He’d gone to university over the Tamar River in the next county, Devon, and studied to be a librarian. He’d worked as a librarian in Plymouth, Devon, for fifteen long years, until the opportunity came up to take over the village stores. Austel had done it despite his family’s protests, and now aged 48, he’d been running the store for a decade and couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

And for the last five years, he’d proudly performed alongside the rest of St Steren’s Singers at local fetes and steam fairs, even competing and winning at several choral competitions around the country. It was already dark by the time he drove carefully up to St Steren’s village hall, which had been built with a lottery grant eight years ago. Austel, Anathema, and Tracy had led the campaign to win the grant and give the tiny coastal community a much-needed village hub. Austel still felt a swell of pride as he walked into the hall, past the flyers for yoga, the local PROBUS club, the astronomy club, and the Good Old Days Historical Society. 

He was punctual as ever, which was just as well, as Mrs. Omerod was heading that night’s rehearsal, and Brenda Omerod liked things exactly as she liked them, no arguments from anyone else. Still, she shouldn't give Austel too much trouble. He knew the harmonies well, and he’d been practicing the Carol of the Bells until he’d had to turn to Tracy’s famous honey, lemon, and rosemary homemade tea to save his voice. They’d be touring a few local villages in the run-up to Christmas, but the St. Steren’s community carol singing and Christmas lights switch-on was the real main event.

“Julia Betley! Jesus didn’t come to earth to hear you butcher O Come All Ye Faithful like that! And not even the grace to look ashamed. Right. Let’s go again.”

It was a long rehearsal, livened by several long-suffering glances from Tracy that had Austel stifling a snigger. Brenda took her role as second director far too seriously. Thankfully Mrs. Young, the regular director, would be back the following week.

As he and Tracy walked arm in arm into the crisp night air, the sound of the sea and the sight of the stars high above the village took his breath away. “I’ll never get used to this.”

“Me neither, love. Blimey, she was a right old battle axe tonight, wasn’t she? I pity poor Ron!”

“Well, there’s no accounting for how people find their match. Who knows, perhaps they’re perfect for each other.”

“And do you have your eye on anyone?” Tracy asked with characteristic frankness and a twinkle in her eye. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

Austel laughed. “Not many eligible bachelors in the village, you know that. And the store and the singers keep me busy.”

Tracy gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “There’s someone out there for you. He’ll arrive when you’re not looking, you’ll see.”

Austel started to protest that he wasn’t looking anyway, and had no plans to start, but Tracy had already hopped on her scooter with its flower decals, and puttered away into the night. As Austel unlocked his own car, a somewhat temperamental cream-coloured 1967 Austin Mini Countryman, he couldn’t help thinking about what Tracy had said. 

His last serious relationship had ended when he left Plymouth, because Will had refused to leave Plymouth for “the back arsehole of nowhere,” and Austel didn’t want a long-distance relationship. If he was going to be with someone, he wanted to hold them, come home to them at the end of the day. It would be nice to have someone to curl up beside the fire with, maybe read to, but who would want that kind of slow, boring life? No, far better to focus on his life in the village, and leave the romantic dreams aside.

The Mini sputtered gently as Austel guided it carefully through the Cornish hedge-lined lanes from the hall, back through the village, and onto the steep road at the other side. Cornish hedges were rather mis-named, being made of earth and stone, and liable to do a great deal of damage to any vehicle unlucky enough to run into one. As he rounded the corner and followed the hill up past Dreckzel Garden and Arboretum, something caught his eye above the dark treeline. 

A shooting star! Austel smiled to himself, slowing down so he could watch it streak across the sky, leaving a trail of light. Agnes had taught him to always wish on a shooting star, because legend had it that St Steren’s was founded by a fae-born woman who’d fallen in love with a Cornish man after wishing for love on a falling star. She was willing to give up her immortal life for love, and they lived happily ever after for many years.

Of course the later legend had the town founded by St Steren, who’d driven all the fae from the area and built up a respectable village. But true Cornishmen knew which legend to believe.

Austel made a quick wish, and kept driving. But as he rounded the next corner, he saw light blazing through the trees. He was about to pull over out of harm’s way and call 999, for surely the wood must be on fire, the light was so bright. But then he realised that the light was brilliant white, not the colour of flames at all. 

Pulling quickly into a layby, Austel grabbed his emergency kit, in case anything it might come in useful. What if someone was in trouble? He couldn’t drive past without knowing. Luckily, growing up in the area meant Austel knew the back way to sneak into Dreckzel Garden, despite the high wall and locked gate.

At first, the light was so bright that he could barely see, and he had to raise his arm to shield his eyes from it. But then it grew dimmer and dimmer, until Austel was worried that he might not find the source of it before it faded altogether. Hurrying, he scrambled across tree roots and avoided the mine shafts, which were thankfully well-marked. 

Stepping out into a large mossy clearing, he stopped with a gasp. A man was sitting on the wet, cold ground, bent double and panting as if he’d been winded. He looked like he belonged to a local dramatics group - he was wearing a long white robe that seemed to shine from within. The robe was fastened by silver star-shaped clasps at the shoulders. Oh god, he must be freezing. Austel rushed to the man’s side and sat on the ground.

“Are you quite alright? What happened? I’ll call an ambulance - here, let me just -”

Austel took off his tweed jacket and draped it around the other man’s shoulders.

“Don’t.” The man’s voice was so hoarse Austel could barely make out the word. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Don’t call anyone. I’ll be alright in a minute.”

“I really should - “

“Please.” The man looked up at him and Austel failed to suppress a gasp at the sight of his eyes, which were the vivid yellow of the agate Austel sometimes found in Comet Bay, the small beach that was just meters from his house. The man’s face was striking, with high cheekbones and a strong, slightly hooked nose. It was a face meant for mischief. 

“Look,” the man said, running his hands through the long red waves of his hair and irritably picking dried winter leaves out of it. “Can you just tell me where I can find somewhere to stay tonight … actually, I suppose I’ll need money, too. Shit. Bloody Epsilon didn’t exactly give me time to prepare.”

“You can stay at my place if you like.” Austel said quickly, before he could change his mind. It was reckless - uncharacteristically so - but he could hardly leave the man in the middle of the woods, and the thought of sending him off in an ambulance felt wrong, somehow. “So long as you’re sure you aren’t injured.”

The man undertook a rudimentary self-examination and shook his head. “Nope, seem to be all in one piece. As far as I can tell.”

“Would you … would you like to come back with me? At least till we get you a cup of tea and some warmer clothes?”

“Yeah, that’s really nice of you, thanks. Where am I anyway?”

“Dreckzel Woods, near St Steren. In Cornwall?” he added, when the man looked at him blankly. “England? The United Kingdom?” he tried desperately.

“That’s on earth, right?”

Austel was silent for a moment. “Um … yes, dear fellow, that’s on earth. Are you … not from earth?”

The man shrugged. “Not exactly.”

“I … I see,” said Austel, not seeing at all. “Well, come on then. I’m Austel. What’s your name?”

“Alpha Serpentis.”

Oh, dear. Austel experienced a brief moment of panic. Perhaps the ambulance, or the local mental health team, might have been the better choice after all. But then, you did get all sorts of odd people in Cornwall. Agnes used to say it was like a Christmas stocking - all the nuts rolled to the bottom. And the man seemed harmless. Not that Austel had much to go on, to be honest. But something in him kept insisting that he help the man, rather than palm him off on someone else. Besides, it was dark and cold and the poor thing was shivering and looking most disgruntled, as well he might. Offering his hand, Austel helped the stranger to his feet, and led him out of the garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are fuel for hungry authors - I'd love to hear what you think.
> 
> Next update coming next Friday :)
> 
> **Behind the scenes notes**
> 
> I spent several years living in Cornwall, and loved it. When Claire and I started talking about the fic, I suggested Cornwall as a location because of its long association with myth and magic. She liked the idea, so I ran with it! The setting is very much a love letter to a wonderful place.
> 
> St Steren is heavily based on two beautiful Cornish towns: St Agnes, and Zennor. St Agnes is a quaint and lovely coastal town with a stunning beach. Local rumour says that St. Agnes draws to itself people who are ready to settle down and find home, and most of St Steren draws from St Agnes. Zennor has a mermaid statue and there is mermaid mythology associated with the town. I drew on that aspect to give St Steren its mythical vibe. 
> 
> Village stores that sell most things and close early are a staple of Cornish village life! Tide tables list when the tide is high and low at different points around the county, and no self-respecting village store would be without them.
> 
> History societies are common in Cornwall, and the astronomy club is based on one I used to attend at St Agnes.
> 
> The mine shafts are a for real thing, too. There are many beautiful walks in Cornwall, along cliffs and in woods, where you have to look out for mine shafts (which are thankfully well marked.) There are lots of old minehouses dotting the landscape too - they look very striking.
> 
> Austel's name is a play on the traditional Cornish name Austol, which is the name of a saint, and El, which is Cornish for angel.
> 
> The quote about all the nuts rolling to the bottom of a Christmas stocking is something I overheard an acquaintance say once. She had it right too - Cornwall is a fantastic place for the eccentric among us.


	2. St Steren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Austel takes his mysterious new friend home for a cup of coffee and some rest - and helps him with an important life decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to [Mira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos) for the wonderful beta work!

“It’s alright, this. What did you call it again?”

The stranger was looking up at Austel from his seat on Austel’s overstuffed tartan couch, a mug of coffee clasped between his hands.

“You’ve never had coffee?” Austel was baffled. Maybe he’d been brought up in an ultra conservative religion.

“Nope. Nice though.”

“It’s just instant. I’m going to have to take you out for real coffee.” 

The words were out before Austel could stop himself. What was he doing? The man needed help, not to be invited on a date. 

But he gave Austel a slow smile that lit his face from the inside. “That’d be great.”

Austel paced the living room of Comet Cottage as his thoughts whirled.. 

“Where are you from? Do you have any family or friends I can call for you?”

The stranger quirked a half-smile that did something to Austel’s heart. “My family put me here. As punishment.”

“Punishment? I know we’re a bit rural, but it’s not like you fell into purgatory or anything.”

“Yeah, I reckon it's quite lovely here, actually.” 

“I just can’t see why your family would … and why you were in the grounds of Dreckzel Garden …?”

The stranger sighed. His white robe was still glowing softly - did it have LEDs sewn into it? - making him look like Shakespeare’s snowy dove trooping with crows in the dim living room. 

“I’m a star, see? Got cast down from the heavens because I wouldn’t do what they wanted me to do.”

“And that was?” Austel sat down on the other end of the sofa, feeling lightheaded suddenly. 

“Stay in the same place in the sky and not go wandering,” the stranger answered calmly, as if they were discussing the quality of saffron buns in the bakery.

“So you’re … you’re literally a wandering star?” Austel could feel a laugh rising in his throat, and strongly suspected it was a symptom of hysteria. The other man - or man-shaped being - snorted out a laugh at the pun, and Austel found himself laughing with him. The man’s laugh was warm, like firelight, and the sound seemed to make the cottage brighter.

“Something like that,” he said, finishing his coffee. “Thanks, that helped.”

“Let me make you something to eat?”

“You’ve done enough. I’m alright.”

“Nonsense, you must be quite shaken after all that. A little something light will make sure your blood sugar doesn’t crash or anything, then I can make up the bed for you. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“You can’t - “

“I insist.” Austel got up, glad of something to do, and especially glad that he could be alone in the kitchen, away from that arresting golden gaze that made his stomach flip-flop. 

After a light snack of homemade chicken soup (which thankfully Austel always had in the freezer), his unexpected guest sat back on the sofa with a contented sigh. “You’ve been really hospitable, thanks. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

“Where will you go?”

“Dunno.”

“Do you .... I’m sorry this is rather intrusive of me … but do you have money? A friend you can stay with?”

“Nope. I’ll figure something out though.”

“Well, I can’t just send you out into the world with nothing! Good lord.”

The fellow laughed gently, nudging Austel’s elbow lightly with his own. “Not your responsibility. It’s not like I fell at your feet on purpose.”

“Well, be that as it may, I invited you here and I am not about to cast you out. That would be quite unforgivable. We will talk about it more in the morning but for now, if you are quite sure I cannot call anyone for you, you ought to try for some sleep. I can get you something more comfortable to sleep in, if you like.”

“Thanks.” That smile again. Austel tried hard to swallow the feelings rising in him at the sight of it. 

“One last thing,” he told his guest. “If you’re going to be staying around a while, you might want a slightly less unusual name. People are still trying to learn to pronounce ‘Austel’ despite it being similar to the town of St Austell, which everybody knows. I can only imagine how they’ll mangle Alpha Serpentis.”

“I don’t know any earth names.”

Oh. He was still on that. Maybe he’d hit his head? But he looked so genuinely baffled as to what name to use, and whatever was going on he’d clearly been through a lot. It would be mean-spirited not to help him. 

So Austel listed off a few names, trying to find ones that were pleasing to the ear and befitting such a beautiful creature. Josh, Edan, Ash, Flynn, Kieran. He even threw in some astronomical names - Orion, and Leo. The man was perfectly polite about all of them, but you don’t run a village store for a decade without learning to read between the lines, especially not in a tiny place like St Steren when people ostensibly come in for flour, but really need a listening ear. None of the names felt right.

Just as Austel was at a loss, his eye fell on the crow’s feather on the mantlepiece, that he’d collected while beachcombing.

“Crowley …..?” He suggested tentatively, and was met with a bright smile.

“Crowley,” the other man said slowly, as if trying out the sound. “Yeah, I like it.”

“Well then.” Austel got up and gestured Crowley to follow him. “Here’s the bedroom, and you’ll find pyjamas in that drawer. You’re welcome to borrow a pair.”

“Thanks.” Crowley smiled down at him, and Austel tried very hard to ignore the way that smile made his heart thunder.

“You’re most welcome. Goodnight, Crowley.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are fuel for hungry authors - I'd love to know what you think ♥
> 
> Tune in next week to find out how Crowley adjusts to life in Cornwall :)
> 
> **Behind the scenes notes**
> 
> Just a little slice of life in a Cornish cottage in this one! I don't know if this is a fanfic writing thing or a me thing, but whenever I start any sort of AU, a little part of me whispers a prayer to the characters to please feel like a Crowley and an Aziraphale, even if their stories are different. Then all I can do is sit back and watch them develop because as you all know, they tend to have their own minds! Sometimes I get to nudge and push and plot and plan, and other times, they throw all that out (spoiler alert: They both start doing that in the next couple of chapters.)


	3. Truro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Austel have a coffee date, and Austel introduces his strange new companion to his friends. Crowley has no belongings, or money, so Austel helps him settle in ... and finds his feelings growing deeper in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to doorwaytoparadise for another stunning piece of art! It made my heart go all melty when I saw it.

"Why do we have to do this again?”

Crowley looked thoroughly confused by the bundle of shirts and jeans in his arms.

“Because you cannot go around in just a robe, dear. Especially not at this time of year, you’ll catch your death!”

“Not sure that applies here.”

Austel shook his head. Crowley was still quite insistent on being a star, despite having had a good night’s sleep and a decent breakfast, two things which Austel was quite sure could fix any problem. But he seemed harmless enough, and Austel had to admit Crowley was the most thrilling company he'd enjoyed in quite some time. Crowley was witty and curious and observant, and he seemed utterly enchanted with Truro's old-fashioned buildings and beautiful cathedral. Clothes shopping in St Steren was limited to one surf shop, so unless Crowley wanted to wear nothing but board shorts, tank tops, and wetsuits, Austel thought a trip to the larger town was a wise move.

Walking to the popular clothes shop Flotsam had taken some time despite Truro being a compact city of barely 20,000 residents. Crowley had been fascinated by the narrow streets, the quay, the Cathedral and, more than anything, the Christmas lights.

“Wait till you see them after dark,” Austel had told him. “You’re in for quite the treat.”

Now, Austel nodded encouragingly towards the changing rooms. Crowley shifted from foot to foot a bit, then vanished behind the curtain. Austel noticed both men and women looking at Crowley appreciatively, and felt an odd sense of pride. As if Crowley was his to be proud of, how ridiculous!

When Crowley wandered back out of the fitting room, having switched Austel’s spare jeans and t-shirt (which were both too short and too wide for him), for skinny distressed black jeans and a red and black plaid shirt, Austel had to remember how to breathe. Heavens, the man was stunning.

“Very fetching,” he told Crowley warmly. “How do you feel?”

“‘S comfortable.” Crowley stretched his arm out and examined the shirt with interest. “Soft.” Then he stepped close, leaning down to speak quietly beside Austel’s ear, and sending tingles through him. “Um, how am I gonna pay for this?”

“My treat,” Austel said firmly. “You need clothes and I won’t stand for any argument. Maybe you didn’t mean to land here. But it was my choice to take you home.”

“I … yeah, not sure about that.”

“Please.” Austel glanced up at him. “Let me help? Just till we figure out a job for you. You can pay me back then, if you insist, though I most certainly don’t mind.”

“Alright … yeah, alright.”

When they walked back out onto the streets of Truro, dark was falling and people were bustling around.

“Late night shopping,” Austel explained to Crowley. “Shops have late nights sometimes in the week or so before Christmas. Stay open all the way to seven o’clock, the scandal!”

Crowley laughed, and Austel felt himself flushing at having made him do so. 

“That unusual then?”

“Absolutely. Five o’clock closing all the way here. Three or four in the villages. And that’s just the days we’re open, which vary widely. Though I open each day aside from Sunday. People need the stores. Though I confess my opening hours are a tad erratic,” he added with a rueful smile.

“I’m … I’m not entirely clear on what you do at the stores. Can you explain?”

Austel was baffled. “Y - yes. If you need me to. Why don’t I take you for that coffee I promised you?”

“You’ve done so much, angel.”

Austel stopped walking and looked up at Crowley, the intimacy of the name making his stomach flip-flop. He was going to politely request Crowley be a little less personal, but what came out was, “Angel?”

“Yeah. Rescued me, didn’t you? Sorted me out with clothes, kept me fed. Seems pretty angelic to me.”

Flustered, Austel wasn’t sure how to respond. In the end, he settled for taking Crowley to the Saffron cafe, situated above the Lemon Street Market.

“Why not just call it Lemon Cafe?” Crowley enquired, as Austel seated them at a rustic wooden table overlooking Lemon Quay.

“Because they’re famous for their saffron buns,” Austel told him. “Which I assure you are delicious, but let’s have something more substantial first.”

By the time they returned to Comet Cottage, they were both full, thanks to a delicious repast of nut roast with a side of moroccan spiced couscous, and of course a saffron bun each. Crowley had been so impressed by the sweet, saffron-flavoured, fruity yeast bun that Austel had bought a bag of them to go.

As soon as they entered Comet Cottage, Crowley’s eye fell on the one astronomical thing on display: Austel’s telescope.

“What’s this then?”

“It’s a telescope … have you not seen … no, you probably haven’t. It’s for looking at the stars. I’ve been wanting to make a stargazing garden behind the cottage - I’ve always loved the stars and St Steren has a lot of star folklore. But there’s something not right with the mirrors - the image is distorted. I’ll get around to fixing it eventually.”

Crowley nodded, looking thoughtful and running his hand over the telescope. Then, he sprawled on the sofa, and the sight of him in his new clothes, long hair tied in a loose ponytail, made Austel’s palms grow damp. The man was incredibly beautiful, but more than that, he had a gentleness and just a touch of wickedness about him that was utterly compelling.

“We really must talk about what’s next for you,” he told Crowley, trying hard to be practical.

“Told you. I was sent here to learn the consequences of my actions,” Crowley said, yellow eyes solemn and earnest. “So I’d better start with a job … like how you described what you do at the store. Need one of those I reckon. Got to learn to make my own way.”

Austel stared at him for several seconds in consternation. Crowley was still quite certain that he’d been sent from the stars. 

“I’ve got a friend who knows everything that goes on around here,” Austel ventured. “Maybe I could ask her if she knows of any jobs?”

“Really?” Crowley lit up like the festive lights he’d so enjoyed. “That’d be great, angel.”

Austel checked his watch. It was only 8:00 o’clock - there were hours till last orders. “We can go meet her now if you like?”

“If you’re sure.” Crowley looked hopeful and excited, and Austel was struck with the feeling that he’d do anything to make the strange fellow happy. He felt unaccountably protective of Crowley.

Crowley was as enchanted with St Steren as he’d been with Truro. By the time Austel parked carefully in front of the Falling Star Inn, Crowley looked ready to leap out of the car and explore. 

The Falling Star was a huge 18th century building, painted white with blue wood beams, gloriously positioned beside Eclipse Cove, St Steren’s other beach. Being closer to the town proper, it was more popular than Comet Bay, which suited Austel perfectly, as it meant he often got Comet Bay to himself, especially in the long winter months.

When Crowley paused to stare up at the night sky, with a look of pain that was almost palpable, Austel felt lost as to how to help him.

“Come on.” He gently took Crowley’s elbow without thinking. “Let me introduce you to the grand Cornish tradition of good ale and better company.”

The Falling Star was as busy as usual, with village folk gathered to catch up on the latest news, discuss the upcoming winter festivities, and laugh long and loud. Anathema waved from their usual table in the snug, and Austel went to greet her. 

“Anathema … Newt.” He nodded a greeting to Anathema’s lovely, big-hearted boyfriend. “And Arthur, lovely to see you.This is Crowley. He’s new in St Steren, so I brought him in to enjoy the atmosphere, and try some Cornish ale. Crowley, take a seat - I’ll be right back with our drinks.”

Crowley sat down, greeting the others easily. Well, he seemed comfortable enough with people, at least, Austel thought with relief. As he crossed the crowded room to the polished driftwood bar, decorated with hundreds of pennies stuck into the wood, he realised how exhausted he was.

“Alright, love? The usual? Or we’ve got a gorgeous guest ale called Sancreed Dark, lovely and rich.”

“Two Cornish Knockers will be fine, thank you Tracy.”

“Yeah?” Tracy started pulling the taps. “And what do you need to get off your chest?”

Austel laughed softly. His friend always knew. Taking a deep breath, he began telling the story of finding Crowley. When he’d finished, Tracy reached over the bar and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Just like you to bring him home, and feed and clothe him.” She smiled. 

“The problem is, I don’t know what to do now. He … he thinks he’s a star.”

“So you said already.”

“A star, Tracy.”

“Yes, dear, a star. You said. But it’s like your aunt Agnes always says, when you shake a Christmas stocking - “

“All the nuts roll to the bottom,” Austel said in unison with Tracy, and they both laughed.

“Does he seem dangerous, to himself or anyone else?”

“Well … no. Quite the contrary. He’s polite and curious and quite delightful company.”

“Quite the looker too.” Tracy grinned, and Austel swatted her hand playfully. “Look, love, people come to Cornwall to find themselves, you know that. You like him, yes?”

“Yes … yes I do.”

“And he seems content enough?”

Austel glanced over at Crowley, who was laughing at Newt’s attempts to play a tune by running his finger over the rim of his glass.

“He does …”

“So I say, let him be. We might not understand why he believes he’s a star, but it’s something he clearly needs right now. Let’s get him sorted with a job first. I could do with someone over the festive period. You said he’s not got an ID or money? Well I could do him some accommodation and food as part pay. Nothing fancy, but comfy. Just till he settles in and maybe tells us what’s going on.”

“But you don’t know anything about him,” Austel said.

Tracy grinned at him, her voluminous beaded earrings catching the light. “Nor did you love, and you took him home. I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

As Austel turned to look at Crowley, he realised that yes, so did he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are fuel for hungry authors - so don't be shy to share ♥
> 
> **Behind the scenes notes**
> 
> NGL folks I just wanted to put these two sweethearts in some settings that I know and love, and generate some warm fuzzy feelings for them and for you reading this!!
> 
> I used to live near Truro and I can confirm that it's very pretty! The Saffron Cafe is loosely based on the Fig cafe, which really is above Lemon Street Market. I often wondered why Fig and not Lemon, so I wrote that in here!
> 
> Cornish Knocker is a) a real name of an ale, and b) a type of spirit. Wikipedia has a good summary:
> 
> _The name comes from the knocking on the mine walls that happens just before cave-ins – actually the creaking of earth and timbers before giving way. To some miners, knockers were malevolent spirits and the knocking was the sound of them hammering at walls and supports to cause the cave-in. To others, who saw them as essentially well-meaning practical jokers, the knocking was their way of warning the miners that a life-threatening collapse was imminent._
> 
> _According to some[citation needed] Cornish folklore, the Knockers were the helpful spirits of people who had died in previous accidents in the many tin mines in the county, warning the miners of impending danger. To give thanks for the warnings, and to avoid future peril, the miners cast the last bite of their tasty pasties into the mines for the Knockers._
> 
> People who've lived in Cornwall will tell you that sometimes you hear knockers in the house as well. We used to live in an old mining village, and there was often knocking on a thin wall between two rooms, with no pipes or anything inside it. We used to joke that it was a Cornish Knocker ... and maybe it was!


	4. The Falling Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Christmas spirit overtakes St Steren, Austel and Crowley enjoy more time together, growing closer by the day. When Crowley shows off his new-found cooking skills, the spark between them flares bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to [Mira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos/pseuds/miraworos) for the wonderful beta work!
> 
> CW: Brief mention of emotional abuse by a parent.

“What’s all this then?” Austel asked curiously, as Crowley excitedly led him up the stairs in the Falling Star to the tiny apartment Tracy was letting him stay in as part payment for helping out in the inn.

“Made you dinner,” Crowley explained. “You’ve been so good to me, wanted to do something nice for you. I admit Tracy gave me a few cooking lessons.”

“Not a fan of cooking, dear boy?” Austel asked as he followed Crowley into the cosy little room, with its tiny kitchenette in the corner.

“Not much call for it back home,” Crowley said, with a quick glance at him. He’d started wearing fashionable small round sunglasses. Austel assumed it was to hide his vivid yellow eyes, but didn’t like to pry. But then Crowley took the glasses off and gave him a thoroughly disarming smile.

“People kept asking if they were contacts, so I figured I’d grab some dark glasses from the surf shop. Don’t mind you seeing them though.”

Austel’s heart fluttered a little. This was ridiculous. He barely knew Crowley and he was old enough and set in his ways enough not to fall apart like a teenager with a crush. But Crowley just did something to his heart...and to the rest of him. Since Tracy gave Crowley a job two weeks ago, they’d seen each other most nights. Austel had made a point of stopping to talk to Crowley at the bar when he went in for a drink.

“He’s a natural,” Tracy had confided to him on the third night. “People take to him like a duck to water.” 

In those two weeks, Austel had hosted him for dinner four times, and they’d eaten fish and chips while walking on the beach. Crowley had stopped by the village stores, and seemed fascinated by everything. His wide-eyed curiosity was so genuine that Austel felt discomfited. He couldn’t bring himself to believe the man was a literal star, but he also was finding Crowley to be kind, honest, and clear-headed. It made no sense.

Shaking his head, Austel decided to focus on having dinner with his fascinating new friend, and checking in to make sure Crowley was settling in ok.

“Housewarming gift,” Austel blurted, suddenly feeling a little awkward as he handed Crowley the large paper gift bag he’d brought with him. The look of delight and surprise on Crowley’s face only added to the awkward butterflies blundering around in Austel’s stomach.

“It’s a microwaveable wheat bag,” Austel explained when Crowley extracted the small wheat-filled velvety cushion and looked at it in surprise.”Not the most elegant of gifts, but I know even Cornwall can get chilly in December, especially in this drafty old building.”

“That’s so thoughtful,” Crowley said honestly, looking right at Austel and making him even more flustered. Then he reached into the bag and pulled out a locally crafted earthenware mug painted with a yellow beach, blue sky, and the outline of nearby Wheal Dolcoath mine. His eyes lit up and Austel had to look away from the brilliance. 

“You need your own mug,” he explained. “A house isn’t home without it. There’s a bottle of red in there, too. I wasn’t sure of your taste but a good Fleurie goes with most things.”

“Does it go with butternut squash risotto?” Crowley grinned. “Tracy taught me to make it - said even I couldn't go wrong with that.”

“Of course it does,” Austel smiled back. “Let me help you?”

“No way, angel. This is on me.”

So saying, Crowley busied himself in the kitchenette, pulling pre-roasted butternut squash from the tiny worktop oven, and preparing the rice on the small plug-in hob. Left to his own devices, Austel sat down on the small but comfy two-seater sofa by the window, and picked up a copy of Cornish Life magazine. 

Angel. He kept sounding the name in his mind, loving how it made him feel. It was such a warm, intimate nickname. Not the kind you’d give to a casual acquaintance. As if he and Crowley had something special between them.

Watching Crowley work quickly and easily, as if he was a natural at cooking, Austel couldn’t help noticing his wiry forearms with a light dusting of hair as red as the coppery strands on his head, the long curve of his spine. He was impossibly beautiful, but more than that, there was something quick and sharp and joyful about him, an intoxicating mix that Austel was quite sure could easily become addictive.

 _Pull yourself together_. Austel told himself firmly. 

“So why the stores?” Crowley asked over his shoulder as he worked. 

No one had ever asked him that directly about his choice to run the stores before. Anathema and Tracy just accepted it as part of his life, no questions asked.

“I always loved St Steren,” he said truthfully. “I used to be a librarian, and books are still a great love of mine, but when it came to the choice of continuing in the library and being away, or finally achieving my dream of living in the village, there was no contest. Well, very little contest …” He added after a pause, “As you’ve seen, my cottage is practically a library in its own right.”

“I love your cottage,” Crowley said warmly. “It’s so cosy and friendly. Love the name too.”

 _It’s quiet without you in it_. Austel wanted to add, but he bit his tongue. It was preposterous that he should feel such a sense of mourning, when Crowley had only stayed a couple of nights before moving into the inn.

“Thanks,” he said aloud. “I always wanted to live by the beach.”

“I can see why.” Crowley gave him another of those heart-stopping smiles as he handed over a bowl of delicious-smelling risotto. “I’m sorry I don’t have a table and chairs yet,” he added, looking a bit embarrassed. 

“It’s the company that matters.” Austel smiled, gesturing for Crowley to take the seat beside him on the sofa, which he quickly did. “Well, and the food.”

Crowley laughed at that, then there was silence as they both dug into their bowls of risotto. Austel gave a sigh of satisfaction as the creamy rice, buttery-soft squash, and flavours of black pepper, basil, chives and Parmesan caressed his taste buds. “Gosh, you’re a quick study. This is delicious!”

“Yeah, not bad eh? Maybe I’ll try spaghetti bolognese next time.” Crowley seemed to catch himself mid-thought, spluttering slightly. “If you want there to be a next time, I mean.”

“Of course I do. Though surely next time it’s my turn to cook for you.”

“Told you, this is a thank you,” Crowley chided gently, and Aziraphale felt his cheeks flushing. The way Crowley’s eyes twinkled when he teased, that easy, cheeky smile, made him weak. “Didn’t feel quite brave enough to risk making dessert though.” He chuckled. “Got us some whortleberry pie from the bakery in the village. Honestly, I picked it cause of the name. What the hell is a whortleberry, Austel?”

“It’s a type of bilberry. Very sweet and delicious and just a little tart.”

“Awesome. Got some clotted cream to go with it too. The woman in the bakery told me I couldn't have whortleberry pie without clotted cream.”

“We’ll make a Cornishman of you yet.” Austel grinned. Crowley gave him another of those half-shy sideways glances that made Austel tingle. For a wild split second he felt like maybe Crowley’s story was true. He was so otherworldly. He seemed so new, somehow.

But it wasn’t possible. Of course it wasn’t possible. 

Austel was still lost in his wonderings, when Crowley kissed him. It was soft and loving and he tasted faintly of the wine and herbs from dinner, and something like crisp sea air and apples. When he drew back, Austel was stunned enough that at first he could barely respond when Crowley bit his lip and quietly said, “I’m sorry. Probably shouldn’t have done that.”

“Whyever not?” Austel managed, though it sounded as breathless as he felt.

“Well, we never … you know. Never talked about anything like that. You’re just so kind to me, I didn’t want to assume … I don’t know anything about human relationships.”

Austel reached over and squeezed Crowley’s hand. “Dear fellow, I’ve wanted to kiss you since we met. There is something utterly compelling about you. But it seemed so inappropriate - you were clearly in trouble and needed me to help you, not throw myself at you.”

Crowley gave him that lopsided grin that Austel was already growing to love. “Wouldn't have minded. You can throw yourself at me as much as you want.”

Austel laughed and swatted his arm gently, but leaned in for another kiss, threading his hands through Crowley’s beautiful long hair.

“I’m very fond of you,” he said as they drew back, nuzzling the tip of Crowley’s nose. “If you would … would like for us to be in a relationship of any kind, I am open to it.”

Crowley brushed the back of his fingers over Austel’s cheek, making him shiver.

“Crowley?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“I, um, if we are to be closer, it only seems fair to bring this up. I am still unsure how I feel about your origins. I want to believe you and I know you are not mad, but I … I confess I am struggling.”

Crowley studied him for a long moment, amber eyes boring into his as if assessing him. For a split second Austel really could believe the man was a fallen star. 

“Reckon I can be alright with that. S’long as you don’t expect me to pretend to be something I’m not.”

Austel thought about that. He wanted to be completely honest with Crowley. He remembered what Tracy had said and decided that, yes, he could accept Crowley as he was, even if he didn’t completely believe his story.

“I can do that,” he told Crowley, who smiled delightedly, wrapped both arms around Austel, and pulled him into a joyful kiss.

From that point on, they settled into a routine of spending time together nearly every day between Austel closing the stores at around 4PM, sometimes earlier, and Crowley starting the evening shift at The Falling Star. Tracy gave Crowley every Sunday and Wednesday off. Austel always closed the store on a Sunday, and Wednesday was half day - a day which he nearly always spent with Crowley now. 

Their favourite thing was to stroll on the beach together, fingers laced, stealing soft kisses now and again. Every time, Austel would partake in his favourite hobby of carefully scanning the sand, looking for a specific type of stone.

“What are you doing?” Crowley asked curiously.

“I’m looking for a hagstone.” Austel explained. “It’s a stone with a natural hole worn through it. They’re supposed to be good luck charms.I’m not sure if I believe that part, but I’ve always wanted to find one.” 

“If I could make miracles, I’d magic one up just for you.” Crowley told him sincerely. Then he'd leaned down and kissed Austel so thoroughly that he quite forgot the beach, and most other things.

As it was nearly Christmas, it was far too dark to be travelling much in the evenings. Austel explained to Crowley that in rural Cornwall, seven miles was a great distance, especially when it was dark before tea time. Of course they made a few excursions out after dark. Austel told Crowley that he couldn’t possibly spend Christmas in Cornwall without seeing the famous Mousehole harbor lights. And so they’d driven down to the tiny village and spent a happy evening admiring the lights and drinking mulled wine while strolling on the harbour. Despite it not being that cold, Crowley held Aziraphale close as they walked, leaning in every so often to steal quick, thrilling kisses. 

The three weeks before Christmas passed in a blissful blur. The St Steren’s singers had gigs in places around the county, and of course there was the village carol service and light switch-on to prepare for. The stores got busier with locals queuing up to post their parcels and make last minute purchases of Christmas cards and wrapping paper. Christmas was always a big deal in St Steren, and throughout December the village was abuzz with merriment. 

When Austel dropped by Tracy’s house to deliver the gluten-free flour she’d ordered for The Falling Star (“I want everyone who drops by to get a mince pie!”), he took a moment to grin at the sight of her yearly festive decorations. Several people in the village went in for a little house bedazzlement, but Tracy took it to a whole new level. The front of her house was hidden behind bright lights in the shape of candy canes, gifts, and snowflakes. There was a model Santa determinedly climbing towards the chimney, several LED reindeer and penguins in the garden, a runway for Santa’s sleigh, and regular bursts of festive music from a hidden speaker.

It was both awful and beautiful, but the local kids loved it, and the charity collection box Tracy put out was always overflowing by Christmas.

“Austel! Come in, love! I’ve just put the kettle on.”

“Lovely.” Austel hung his coat on the hook in the hallway, took off his sensible brogues, and followed Tracy into the comfy living room of her modern house. “Your decorations look as … lively … as ever.”

“Garish you mean.” Tracy giggled as she busied herself in the kitchen. “I love them, though. The other half complained, but what’s he going to do? Besides, I caught him re-positioning the snowflakes to be just right, so I reckon he’s going soft on ‘em.”

Austel could’t quite imagine Tracy’s husband, whom the village, by silent common agreement, called “The Sergeant,” being soft about anything, though he didn’t say so. When Tracy handed him a cup of lavender rooibos tea and a homemade chocolate chip cookie, he accepted them gratefully. 

“So, what are you giving Crowley for Christmas?” Tracy asked with characteristic bluntness.

“I’m not sure yet. I certainly will give him a gift, though. I think we … we have reached that point in our relationship.”

“Oh yeah, you have.” Tracy grinned. “You thought of making him something?”

“Oh … no. You know I don’t make jewellery any more.”

“Because of your wretched family. Why should they get to dictate what you do?”

Austel fiddled with his cup, then took a long sip. “I know it’s ridiculous. But I felt so … so belittled, by the whole thing.”

Tracy put her cup down then and gave him a long look. “It was cruel, Austel. And I know you’re going to say you’re a grown man and you should have handled it better, but anyone would be hurt by what your mother did. Buying replacement gifts for the family behind your back and throwing away the thoughtful jewellery you made them! What sort of mother ….?”

Tracy trailed off, glaring down at her coffee cup as if it has personally offended her.

“I’ll think about it,” Austel said quietly. He missed his silverwork, but since the incident last Christmas it had brought up nothing but feelings of shame.

“That’s all I’ll ask, love. Don’t want to see you hiding your light under a bushel because your mother is a disgrace to the name.”  
.   
Thanking Tracy for the tea, Austel set out for home. He truly would think about it, he decided. Perhaps Tracy was right. And perhaps Crowley wouldn’t laugh, but would appreciate a handmade gift. He’d certainly liked the handmade mug.

Austel made up his mind for certain on the night of the Christmas light switch-on. It was a beautifully frosty night, a few rare flakes of snow drifting in the air and adding to the festive atmosphere. The Singers were gathered under the tree, regaling the village with a rousing rendition of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen. Austel was concentrating on his part, while trying to remember to look up and smile. When he did so, he caught Crowley watching him with a soft look that made Austel’s insides glow brighter than the cosy fires in The Falling Star. He held Crowley’s gaze for the rest of the song, only breaking it when the song ended and Tracy leaned up to whisper, “well someone’s besotted, love, and I don’t just mean you.”

Austel smiled a little shyly. He knew then that, yes, he did want to give Crowley a meaningful gift. He was starting to suspect that he wanted to give Crowley everything he had.

And so it was that Austel woke in the bright dawn of Christmas morning, too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. Instead he busied himself cooking, prepping, and baking all morning. He and Crowley had made plans to join Newt and Anathema at The Falling Star that night, but for Christmas lunch, well, he had to admit, he loved the idea of it being just the two of them. 

“Don’t you have family to go to?” Crowley had asked worriedly, when Austel shyly mooted the idea of them having Christmas dinner together. 

“I do,” Austel admitted. “But I’d rather not. They won’t like it, of course, but I would rather be here, at home, with people I trust.”

“You trust me?” Crowley said softly.

“I meant Tracy, Newt, and Anathema.” Austel grinned, and Crowley nudged him with his elbow, laughing that laugh, the one that made Austel think of sparks exploding. “But I also meant you,” he added softly.

Crowley had answered with an enthusiastic kiss that lasted for a rather long time. Austel took that as a yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for coming on Austel and Crowley's journey with me! I love hearing what you think ♥
> 
> **Behind the scenes notes**
> 
> I always loved Christmas in Cornwall - so many people decorated their houses, and there are tons of local celebrations. Although I didn't list everything they did, for pacing reasons, I am quite certain they also went to Truro's City of Lights parade, where people create giant glowing lanterns in all kinds of shapes, and visited The Eden Project's festive displays. 
> 
> There are quite a lot of abandoned mining buildings named "Wheal something-or-other" dotted around Cornwall.
> 
> I've always wanted to find a hagstone but never have, so there is definitely some author projection there! Maybe I'll find a hagstone AND a Crowley. A writer can dream .....!


	5. The Beacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Austel enjoy Christmas together, and grow closer as the months pass. But will Crowley's attempts to boost Austel's confidence prove a little too fast?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to [doorwaytoparadise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise/works?fandom_id=27251507) for the beautiful surprise art for this chapter!
> 
> And thank you as always to [Mira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos) for amazing beta work ♥

By the time Crowley knocked on the door of Comet Cottage at one o’clock, Austel was almost too nervous to eat, which was practically unheard of. 

“Come in.” 

He said, trying to ignore the way his hands trembled. Would Crowley like his gift? Would he enjoy spending Christmas together? His nerves were soothed somewhat by the pure joy on Crowley’s face as he strode into the cottage like he belonged there, turned round to face Austel, and pulled him into his arms, peppering his face with kisses. His flame-coloured hair was pulled into a half ponytail with the rest tumbling around his shoulders, and he looked relaxed but smart in one of the tailored shirts they'd bought on their visit to Truro.

“Merry Christmas, angel! I confess I still don’t understand all the traditions, but a time of gifts and lights and delicious food seems alright to me.”

“Quite.” Austel reached up and stroked Crowley’s cheek, marvelling at his beauty. “And speaking of gifts, I have something for you …”

Pulling Crowley to the sofa, he rummaged in his desk drawer and retrieved a small box wrapped in silver paper and tied with a red ribbon, which he handed to Crowley. As Austel watched, Crowley opened it carefully and drew out the delicate silver bracelet, formed into flowing curves that looked like the waves of the sea, or the swirl of a galaxy. Tiny red stars and pieces of green and blue seaglass gleamed between the waves.

“Where I came from, and where I landed. The sky and the seashore,” Crowley breathed in awe. “You don’t believe I’m a star …”

“But you do, and it matters to you,” Austel said simply.

Crowley leaned over and kissed him softly. “I love it … how did you … Austel, did you make this?”

Austel nodded, feeling suddenly shy. When Crowley breathed out a soft “wow,” turning the bracelet to admire it in the light, Austel wanted to hide behind the tartan throw pillows. But when Crowley put it on and beamed at him like it was the best gift anyone had ever been given, he couldn’t help smiling back.

“I’ve got something for you too,” Crowley told him, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a tiny velvet drawstring bag. 

Curious, and already touched beyond measure, Austel opened it and found a pebble the colour of moonstone, worn smooth by time and tide. It was a triangle shape with rounded edges, and at the top corner was a perfect natural hole. It was also intricately wrapped in copper wire, the flowing curves putting Austel in mind of feathers, and hung from a simple leather cord.

“A hagstone,” he said in awe.

“Spotted it on the beach the other day, knew it was for you.”

Austel ran his thumb over the marble-smooth surface, feeling a delighted laugh bubble up in him.

“We got each other jewellery,” he pointed out, glancing up from the necklace to see Crowley looking surprised, then laughing too.

“I guess we did.”

Austel put the necklace on, then leaned over and kissed Crowley softly.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, my love.”

“Your own good luck charm,” Crowley whispered against his mouth.

“Oh, I think I already had enough good luck for six thousand years, meeting you,” Austel told him, as they settled comfortably together on the sofa, cuddling close and enjoying the crackling heat of the fire.

* * *

“Am I early, angel?” 

It was a glorious April day, the sun giving a preview of its summer warmth, and Crowley was leaning in the doorway of Comet Cottage, holding a very small succulent in a pot. 

“Thought you’d like this little guy, he looks like he needs a good home and my windowsill is full,” he explained, thrusting the pot towards Austel, who took it with a smile. 

“Thank you dearest.” 

Austel took the tiny cactus and put it in pride of place on his mantlepiece, next to the framed picture of he and Crowley on the beach on New Year’s Day. Crowley had taken part in the traditional New Year’s Day Ocean Swim. Austel, as was his tradition, had not. The wind was blowing Crowley’s long red hair everywhere, and his skin was bright with salt and winter sun. Austel was wrapped up warm, looked happier than he’d looked in, well, any picture of himself he could remember seeing.

“Not like Newt and Anathema to be late,” Crowley teased, and Austel laughed. 

Anathema was punctual enough at the Village Stores, but in her personal life she did tend to get caught up in whatever she was doing, and forget that time existed. 

“Well, Newt did say they'd be here dreckley.”

“Oh dear.” Crowley gave him a saucy grin. “I’ve been in Cornwall long enough to know that dreckley means _I’ll get around to it at some point in the next decade_.”

“Indeed.” Austel leaned up and kissed Crowley, just because he could.

“A UFO conference though … why?”

“Anathema loves this kind of thing,” Austel told him. “And she’s bringing her friend Eric, who is quite wild about anything strange and mysterious.”

“Huh. Might be interesting. You know I love learning new stuff.”

“I do know. Though I fear this will be mostly the rantings of deranged people.”

“You don’t believe in UFOs?” Crowley smiled wickedly.

“You don’t count.” Austel grinned back. “You’re my falling star.”

Two hours later, sitting in the front row at the Truro College lecture theatre, Austel had to concede that the conference was better than he’d expected. Well, some of it. There had been one fellow who was awfully obsessed with cattle mutilations, and a small group dressed head to toe in purple, who had accosted them in hopes of signing them up for a meditation group that met on Bodmin Moor each week to “commune" with the spirit of their long-deceased leader. But there had also been incredibly an well-researched talk on the Pyramids, and an interesting presentation about the St. Agnes Triangle, a three-sided UFO that appeared in the same place repeatedly.

By the time they arrived back at St Steren, Austel was buzzing from all the conversation, and also feeling rather overwhelmed. 

“If you want to go to the Falling Star with the others, I don’t mind at all,” he told Crowley, nuzzling his cheek softly. “I am going for fish and chips, which I shall enjoy on the beach, as I am feeling rather done with crowds for today. You would be most welcome to join me.”

“Can’t think of anything I’d like better,” Crowley replied, taking Austel’s arm and steering him away from the pub, and towards the harbor and the chip shop. It had become a tradition for them to eat fish and chips on the beach every Sunday night, or in Comet Cottage if the weather was too cold. That Crowley didn’t want to skip it now made Austel feel warm inside.

By the time they’d eaten supper, sitting on a blanket on the beach, Austel was feeling at peace with himself and the world. The sun had just begun to set, decorating the sea with shimmering ribbons of coral and lilac. The waves swished soothingly against the shore with a faint rattle of pebbles and seaglass. 

“I’ve got something for you,” Crowley said suddenly.

Austel looked at him curiously. Crowley held out a folded piece of paper. When Austel made a questioning sound, Crowley shoved the paper towards him, nodding for him to open it.

Austel did so, though he wasn’t any less confused upon reading it. “This is a booking form for a stall at Mazey Day,” he said.

“Yeah.” Crowley confirmed.

“It’s already paid for….”

“Yep.”

“Crowley … why?”

“Because it’s a great place to start selling your jewellery. Anathema told me it’s one of the most popular festivals in Cornwall. Big street fair.”

“Anathema should mind her own business!” Austel snapped, then immediately shut up, catching the sharpness of his tone. Shaking his head, he handed the form back to Crowley.

“C’mon, angel. You’ve got nothing to lose.”

Austel stood up, suddenly frustrated and wanting to be anywhere but in this conversation.

“I’m not talking about this,” he said firmly. “Would you like to come back to the cottage for a glass of wine or some tea?”

Crowley reached up and grabbed his hand. “I’d like to talk about this. At least tell me why not.”

Austel jerked his hand from Crowley’s grasp. Crowley looked shocked, as if unsure what he’d done or how to mend it, and Austel’s heart ached. 

“Look, I don’t question that you believe you’re a star. Don’t question me on this.”

“That’s … alright, fine.” Crowley had gotten to his feet too, looking frustrated and hurt, and Austel hated everything. “I’m just gonna go, angel. Seems like you might need some space. See you at the Falling Star tomorrow, ok?”

“I … yes, ok. Of course. I’m sorry, Crowley.”

Before Crowley could say another word, Austel hurried away as fast as he could back to his car. The drive back to Comet Cottage seemed unreal, and Austel felt relieved when he was safely indoors, nursing a cup of tea and trying to stop the whirl of thoughts in his head about how snappish he’d been, how ridiculous it must all look to Crowley. 

An hour later, Austel was too restless to do anything. He’d watered the cacti (carefully, they didn’t need much), made six cups of tea (and abandoned them all), and re-arranged two of his bookshelves. He picked up his car keys. Put them down again. Picked them up, stared at them as if they might contain the answers, then sighed and headed out the door.

He parked at the foot of St Steren Beacon, grateful that the one tiny parking space there was empty. It was almost full dark now, the moon a huge cream-colored lamp in the dusky blue sky. Austel strode up the steep, winding path, towards the summit of the small hill. Sure enough, Crowley was sitting on the bench there, head tipped back, watching the sky. 

Austel paused at the end of the bench, clearing his throat softly to make sure Crowley noticed him, but unsure whether to approach any closer.

“Hey, angel.” Crowley reached out his hand, and as soon as Austel took it, pulled him down to sit on the bench, close enough that their thighs brushed.

“I’m sorry, I should never have said that about you being a star. I told you I believed it matters to you, and I mean it.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have gone behind your back. Was just trying to boost your confidence.”

“I know.” Austel sighed, leaning back on the bench and gazing up at the sequin scattering of bright stars. “It’s just a bit too fast for me, Crowley. I’m not ready. Making your bracelet was the first time I’ve worked in silver since … since I made gifts for my siblings, and my mother discarded them and bought replacement presents.”

“She what?” Crowley sounded horrified. 

Austel found he couldn’t look at him. “I know I should get over it. My family have hardly been the most supportive - I told you that.”

“Austel, no. That was a cruel thing to do, you are allowed to be hurt.” Crowley reached over and gently turned Austel’s head so they were looking at each other. “But I don’t think she should get to dictate whether you make jewellery again.”

“I know, I …. I know.”

“It’s ok if you need more time. Just say you’ll think about it?”

“I will.” Austel leaned over and kissed him. “It was very thoughtful of you. I think maybe I needed a little push.”

Crowley smiled gently, his beautiful topaz eyes practically glowing in the dark. Austel was reminded of the shimmering robes Crowey had worn the night they met. And the light in the trees … 

Shaking his head, wondering if he was in fact becoming delusional, Austel reached out to cup Crowley’s cheek. Maybe he was … was it possible …

“Something on your mind, angel?”

“You’re just … quite otherworldly.”

“You’re just noticing?” Crowley kissed his palm. Austel shook his head again, not sure what to say. They lapsed into a companionable silence, looking up at the stars together while the ocean breeze whipped across their skin and ruffled their hair. The distant sound of the ocean always helped Austel relax, and he found himself relaxing against Crowley.

“Where did you come from?” Austel asked, suddenly emboldened.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Crowley glance at him, as if trying to fathom if he was serious.

“Serpens.”

“Oh yes, you did tell me that the night we met. Won’t … won’t someone notice if you are missing?” Austel could not quite believe he was asking these questions.

“Got a replacement,” Crowley said, as if that was perfectly normal.

“Ah. And the … um … the learning the consequences of your actions? How is that going?”

Crowley did turn to him then. “You’re not playing with me?” he asked, eyebrows drawing into a frown.

“No.” Austel squeezed his hand. “We’ve been together four months, Crowley. I know you, and I trust you. Even if I am still unsure what to believe, I want to know how things are with you. If you are getting what you need … what you seek.”

“It’s going alright. But mostly, I’m worried about what happens when I’ve learned my lesson. I don’t want to leave you.”

Austel was stunned into silence. The nascent idea that there might be more to Crowley than meets the eye was mind bending enough, but the thought of letting him go ….

“Actually, you know what? Strike that, angel. We’ll find a way. Not gonna leave someone I love, am I?”

Austel felt a huge smile breaking out on his face. Crowley hadn’t said those words before. Neither of them had.

“I love you too,” he said warmly, and Crowley lit up, almost shining. 

“Then I reckon everything else’ll be alright,” he said, drawing Austel close, and kissing him gently under the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming along on this journey! Your comments make me light up even more than star!Crowley ♥
> 
> The UFO conference is based on a real event that I attended when I lived in Cornwall. The St. Agnes Triangle is a for real thing, that I have actually seen. Imagine my disappointment when I phoned the local UFO research group to report an actual for real UFO, only to be told "oh, the St. Agnes Triangle. Loads of people have seen that." And yes, the man obsessed with mutilations and the strange be-robed people are based on actual people I met at the conference.
> 
> St Steren Beacon is based on St Agnes' Beacon, which is a lovely hill just outside the town of St Agnes, that affords sweeping ocean views.
> 
> And yes, people in Cornwall do say "I'll be there dreckley", and I hope it's clear from context that I mean it fondly. 
> 
> Tune in next Friday for a visit to a traditional Cornish May Day celebration!


	6. Padstow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Austel attend the annual Obby Oss celebration - and it seems that Crowley is ready to take their relationship to a new level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [Doorwaytoparadise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise) for being so enthusiastic about me setting the fic in Cornwall and pouring all the Cornish things into it, and thank you as always to my amazing beta [Mira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos) for the stellar polish!

“Angel, what the hell is an obby oss?”

Crowley looked both amused and intrigued as he got out of Austel’s car, grabbing the water bottle, tea flask, and bag of saffron buns.

“A grand Cornish tradition,” Austel told him, locking the car doors and walking around the vehicle to join Crowley. He spotted Newt and Anathema getting out of their car, then Eric, who lived near the North Cornwall fishing village of Padstow, arriving on his bicycle. 

“A popular Cornish tradition...” Crowley repeated sardonically as he spotted the crowds flowing from the car park towards the quaint town. “You gonna be ok with the crowds?”

“Oh yes. It’s worth it - but I will probably want a quiet evening in after! With you, of course.”

Crowley gave him his impossibly soft smile at that, then the others reached them and the five of them set off for the town. Anathema fired off a couple of quick texts, and they were soon joined by Arthur and Deirdre, who explained that Adam and his little gang were already in the thick of it with strict instructions to meet at the car at 5:00 PM.

Austel had been attending the Obby Oss festival all his life, so he knew the best way to see it was to steer away from the heaving crowd around the Golden Lion Inn, and find a good spot on a side street to watch the Osses cavort and spin. Crowley was looking around curiously, and as the sound of accordions and drums grew louder and louder, he gave Austel a questioning glance. 

Then the Old Oss arrived on the street, with a retinue of dancers in red and white, and a teazer who chased it with a stick, goading it. The Oss itself was of course a man, but a man in an impressive folk costume consisting of a large flat black disk around his shoulders, with oilskin covering the disk and falling like a tablecloth around it. Above the disk the Obby Oss had a fearsome mask with a snapping jaw.

“What sort of horse is that meant to be? A horse from hell? I wouldn’t fancy riding it!” Crowley laughed. 

“Fearsome, isn’t it? There are records of the festival going back to at least the nineteenth century, though many believe it’s older.”

“What’s it …. for?”

Crowley watched with interest as the Oss danced and spun down the street, playfully trying to catch people under the tilting oilskin. 

“No one knows for certain,” Austel explained. “Some think it’s a fertility festival, others a way to welcome the summer, while others think it’s some kind of rain-bringing ritual. Most scholars believe it’s pre-Christian though.”

“The important thing’s the community spirit,” Eric interjected, pointing out a dancing woman with the Oss tattooed large on her upper arm. “Brings hundreds of people to the town, and unites us!” 

“And the beer.” Newton grinned, handing Crowley a plastic glassful. 

“Apparently, the smaller Oss, the blue ribbon Oss, was introduced by a group who hoped to inspire temperance and stop the townsfolk celebrating quite so vigorously,” Austel told Crowley, who responded by taking a swig of beer and giving him a cheeky grin.

“Clearly didn’t work.”

“Clearly.” Austel laughed, catching the way Newton and Anathema smiled at him.

A few hours later, he was sitting in the garden of a quaint tea garden, some forty-minute’s walk out of Padstow. They’d thoroughly enjoyed the celebrations, but when Crowley suggested a couple of quiet hours to walk and stop for refreshment, Austel was quite happy to oblige him. They’d agreed to meet up with the others for a last drink before heading back to St Steren.

“It’s lovely here, eh?” Crowley said, gazing out across the rolling landscape and blue sea.

“It most certainly is. I am glad I came back here after living in Plymouth. I am not a city person.”

“Me neither.”

“To be fair, dear, you’ve only seen Truro, which is a very small and lovable city. Were you to see another, you might fall in love and never want to leave.”

Crowley pretended to consider that deeply. “Maybe … what other cities are there?”

“Well, London is the obvious choice. They say if you’re tired of London, you’re tired of life.”

“That so?”

“Yes, and then of course Bath is very genteel, with lots of interesting things to see.”

“Yeah?” Crowley leaned across the table, taking Austel’s hand.

“Mmmhmm, and I hear Liverpool has an incredible music scene …”

“Funny thing is, I reckon St Steren is the only place I’m going to fall in love and never want to leave.”

“Oh, really?” Austel took a sip of his Earl Grey tea to hide the beaming smile that was threatening to break free.

“Yep. There’s only one thing I don’t like about St Steren.”

“What’s that?”

Crowley took off his sunglasses then, vivid golden eyes boring into Austel’s. “I miss you when I’m alone in my flat after my shifts.”

Austel’s heart was racing so fast he hoped he wouldn’t faint. “I miss you too.”

“Would be easier if we both came home to the same place, maybe …”

Austel’s heart started hammering so fast that he felt giddy. His hands were trembling, he realised, and he tried to steady them by folding them in his lap.

“I’m sorry … angel, I shouldn't have … it’s too fast isn’t it?” Crowley looked worriedly at Austel’s tightly-folded hands and what Austel assumed must be an expression of shock. But it was such a good surprise. Austel had never been so happy to be caught unawares.

“No!” Austel managed to burst out. “Oh no, no Crowley it’s not! The night you moved into the Falling Star, I missed you, but how could I say that? Oh but I just did.” He realised, his heart sinking. “I realise how ridiculous that sounds, we’d just met … I’m sorry, I only meant …”

Before he could say anything else, Crowley had leaned across the table and kissed him. Austel’s hands found themselves quite capable of unwinding, in the aim of twining in Crowley’s hair and keeping him close.

“I want that.” He said breathlessly. “I want to live with you.”

Crowley smiled delightedly. “Wahoo! Then we should start planning where -”

Before Crowley could finish the sentence, Austel’s phone gave an impatient beep. He froze, not wanting to break the moment.

“Better check it, angel. You hardly ever get texts, might be important.”

Austel nodded, but reached out and cupped Crowley’s face. “We’re going to come back to this conversation,” he said warmly, then flipped open his phone. “Fuck.” He said with feeling, to a shocked look from Crowley.

“What’s wrong?”

“My mother’s in hospital. I’d … I’d better go, I’m sorry.”

“Not so fast.” Crowley stood up, leaving more than enough money on the table for the tea. “I’m coming with you.”

“No … no need, dear boy. I don’t know how long I’ll be. I’ll text Newt, I’m sure he won’t mind giving you a lift back to St Steren.”

“Austel! You just agreed to move in with me. Surely I can be there to support you?”

“You haven’t met my mother.” Austel said with feeling, so glad that Crowley hadn’t, and not at all keen to change that.

“I’m not going for her, I’m going for you.”

“Crowley, we don’t have time - “

“We bloody well do. If it was life or death, the message would have said. Why don’t you want me to come with you?”

Austel looked around, sighed heavily, tried to pull out of Crowley’s grasp, then sighed again as he rested his forehead on Crowley’s shoulder.

“She won’t approve of you. Or us.”

“Because you’re gay?”

“Because I’m me, Crowley. She thinks me a waste of space, and everything I do isn’t good enough. I don’t … I don’t want you to see me like that.”

Crowley shook his head, tilting Austel’s face up to his. “Never gonna happen, angel. I’m not asking you to trust me, because clearly you’ve been given little reason to trust people who are meant to care. So I guess I’m asking you to take the risk, just in case this is real after all. In case I am, in fact, head over arse in love with you and very unlikely to change that.”

Austel laughed a bit, though he felt muzzy-headed with fear, like he was afraid to entirely inhabit his body.

“I … I can do that.” He said, taking Crowley’s hand and rushing back towards Padstow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you think - comments keep authors going, and that means more fic!! ♥
> 
> **Behind the scenes notes**
> 
> I only went to the Obby Oss once when I lived in Cornwall as it was very crowded (and I am not a fan of crowds), but it was so worth it! I still remember it vividly, and I tried to capture of much of that as I could here.


	7. The Road Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley helps Austel find his inner strength to deal with his family, but a twist of fate leaves Austel and Crowley's future uncertain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to [Mira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos/profile) for the most extraordinary beta work - especially the old-fashioned language!
> 
> CW: Mention of broken bones, but no graphic descriptions.

Austel sagged into a plastic seat in the cafeteria at Treliske Hospital, glad of a moment away from his family. Crowley had gone to fetch tea, despite Austel insisting that they’d just had tea at Padstow and there was really no need. 

“There’s always a need for tea,” Crowley told him and stalked off. He’d been in a terrible mood since meeting Austel’s family, and Austel certainly couldn't blame him for that. 

“I’m sorry to drag you here. Clearly, it’s not actually an emergency … I’m so sorry …” he babbled, as Crowley returned to the table with tea, and a small packet of digestive biscuits each. Crowley covered Austel’s hand with his own before he even sat down.

“Nothing to be sorry for, angel.”

“But you’re upset.”

“First of all, you’re not responsible for my emotions. But second, not upset with you anyway. ‘M upset at your family. Since you arrived, they’ve been nothing but horrible to you.”

“They’re probably worried.”

“Not much to worry about,” Crowley groused. “If I went to hospital every time I stubbed my toe, I’d have to move in.”

Austel replayed the first moments he’d arrived, unable to get his mother’s grating voice out of his mind. “It might have been broken,” she’d told Austel bitterly when he arrived. “And where were you? You haven’t called me in weeks. You didn’t even come for Christmas.”

“I came as soon as Gabriel texted me, mother,” Austel had replied, trying hard to keep calm.

His mother had shot him a hard look. As always, she operated from the assumption that it was her world and should bend to her will, no questions asked. “Yes, well, he’s a good son. He’s always there for me.”

“What would you have me do differently, then? Somehow predict that you would walk into the chair?”

“It’s your chair,” she said petulantly. 

“Yes, mother, which I left in your house, because you insisted that it was too big for the cottage, and you liked sitting in it to do your embroidery.”

His mother scoffed, as if he’d surely made that up, and waved a hand dismissively.

“Well, I want you to come and collect it. And I expect you to show up for your sister’s birthday next week. Skipping Christmas I can overlook, but Michael is turning forty and she just got a promotion.”

“Very well, I will see you next week,” Austel told her. “Can I do anything for you before I go?”

“Yes,” she said snippily. “You can fetch me a drinkable cup of coffee.”

Back in the present moment, Austel finished his tea and put the cup down regretfully. “Let’s get the blasted coffee and go, Crowley. I daresay you’ve seen enough of my family to last a lifetime, and I confess myself rather ready to go home.”

“And talk about our future plans,” Crowley reminded him with a warm smile that made Austel feel considerably better about his family’s shenanigans.

The coffee was, of course, wrong. It was too weak, and there was too much milk in it. Austel could practically feel Crowley bristling, but he shot him a warning look. Better to just get out of there with a half-hearted apology.

Of course Gabriel strode into the corridor just as they did.

“Sunshine!” he boomed, in a tone that made Austel feel like his brother might as well have called him _dog poo-encrusted shoe_. “Glad you finally made it!”

“I drove here as soon as I got your text, Gabriel,” Austel replied as evenly as he could. “It appears there’s no great emergency. You might have told me it was only a bruised toe.”

Gabriel looked Austel up and down as if he was a great disappointment, then glanced briefly at Crowley, before clearly deciding he wasn’t worth paying attention to.

“I’m sure mother mentioned the chair. Now, I also expect you to show up to Michael’s birthday, and I have a list of tasks for you to do in preparation for her party.”

“I don’t know if I can make it,” Austel said, and suddenly realised how truthfully he meant it. He felt Crowley give his hand a gentle encouraging squeeze. “I am rather busy at the stores right now, so I might not make it to the party.”

“Look, Austel, I was prepared to forgive your lack of care for this family, even your brazenness in missing Christmas. But enough is enough now. Time to step up and meet your responsibilities like an adult.”

“No.” Austel could feel Crowley smiling even though he wasn’t looking at his partner. “I run my own business, I have qualifications, and I take part in plenty of community events. I am simply tired of being made to feel like a pathetic excuse for a person by my own family. Always feeling like I’m fighting in a war. It’s no way to live.”

“Listen, brother, I will not have you tarnishing this family’s behaviour with your waywardness,” Gabriel said in a low, menacing tone, stepping close enough that Austel felt trapped. “I’ve had quite enough of making excuses for you.” 

With that, Gabriel grabbed Austel’s collar and pinned him to the wall. In the sudden shock, Austel’s awareness narrowed to the hard wall and the hatred on his older brother’s face, rendering him incapable of moving. 

But Crowley was faster than him, and before Austel could truly process what was happening, Crowley had yanked Gabriel backwards with a grip on his shoulder, spinning the taller man around to face him.

“You really don’t want to do that,” Crowley snarled. 

“Don’t I?” Gabriel stepped chest to chest with Crowley, his frame tense with the threat of violence. Crowley stayed outwardly calm, but his voice had a power to it that made Austel’s stomach flutter. 

“Go ahead, _Sunshine_ , touch him again and I’ll make you glad you’re in a place where they set broken bones.”

Gabriel blustered for a few seconds, then turned to Austel and snapped, “I will be telling Mother about this!”

“‘Course he will,” Crowley muttered in disgust as Gabriel stalked off. “Fucking sycophant. You alright, angel? Want to get out of here?”

“Please,” Austel managed to mutter, though his whole body was trembling and his heart was thrumming like a hummingbird’s. 

By the time they were in the car and headed to St Steren, Austel’s nerves were frayed. He wanted to feel good. He wanted to be grateful Crowley had stood up for him. But he couldn’t shake the look on Gabriel’s face. There would be repercussions. His family had been difficult enough before, he didn’t dare imagine what they would do now.

“You shouldn’t have threatened Gabriel,” he said, worry gnawing at his gut. “I know how to handle him, Crowley.”

“What? Be quiet and let him push you around?”

“Not exactly ….”

“That bastard was threatening you! Wasn’t gonna just stand by. You wouldn’t have.”

Austel almost smiled. “True, dear, but …”

“You’re upset, I get it. We should talk about this. But let’s just get home, yeah? Get some tea and food, calm ourselves down.”

“Good idea … Crowley?”

There was a glow out of the corner of his eye. Austel glanced over and saw a billion tiny rays of light emanating from Crowley, as if he was about to splinter from the inside and flood the world with light. 

“Crowley, my love!” Austel glanced around desperately for somewhere to pull over. The narrow, twisting road offered no leeway.

“Austel, I’m sorry … I … I love you …”

“Crowley, no!”

Panic-stricken, Austel glanced at Crowley, stretching one hand out to grasp at him, as if he could keep him anchored. In that tiny sliver of a moment, Austel didn’t see the deer spring out onto the road until it was inches from the car. He swerved to avoid it, and before he could regain control the car started skidding full-speed towards the rocky Cornish hedge.

* * *

Austel was drifting somewhere light and warm, where the only sound was a steady heartbeat. He was vaguely aware of a crushing pain in his chest and legs, but it felt far away, as if it was happening in someone else’s body. He cracked his eyes open to find he was on the road beside the car, with Crowley holding him in his lap, one hand cupping his cheek fiercely. 

Austel realised at once that the heartbeat was Crowley’s light, pulsing so bright that Austel could feel it as well as see it. The light was pouring into him. Austel could feel it knitting his bones back together and repairing his broken body. Crowley’s eyes were bright as a harvest moon, and his skin was shimmering in the corona of light that pulsated around him. 

He was a star. He had never been anything else, and Austel could never doubt him again.

“I would have stayed,” Crowley was saying, his voice breaking. “Austel, I would have stayed with you forever …”

Then the light flared like a supernova, and Austel knew no more.

* * *

“Thou hast learned thy lesson, Alpha Serpentis.”

Crowley shook his head groggily. Where was he? He wasn’t in the stars, but he wasn’t on the road holding Austel in his arms, either.

“Iota Serpentis? Where am I? What happened to Austel?!”

“He is alive. Thy reckless act saved him.”

“But … before the crash .. why did my light start spilling out?”

“Thou wert so in love that thou started spilling thy light out to try and heal and comfort him. We told thee that if thou used thy powers, thou would be recalled. We might have let a tiny manifestation go, but then thou saved him, and we could not overlook such a blatant display. Be glad, little star. Thou hast learned the consequences of thine actions; that when thou lovest someone, thou can help them face their demons. We never said the lesson had to be an unpleasant one.”

“Not unpleasant?” Crowley was frantic now, searching around desperately for a door or a portal or anything that would let him back to Austel. “Learning it means leavng him!! You might as well have thrown me into Hell!”

He looked around, but there was nothing except a background of stars and night, with Iota Serpentis glowing icily before him.

“Let me back!” he sobbed. “Please, I’ll do anything! Take my light if you must, just let me back to him!”

“Thou art certain?”

“Yes! Fucking hell, what do I have to do? Just tell me.”

“Thou need not do anything.” Iota’s voice was a touch warmer than usual. “We can grant thee this wish, if thou truly want it. Thou hast done all we have asked of thee. Be warned, though, that if thou makest this choice, thou cannot ever return to the stars. Thou wilt live a normal human lifespan with Austel. Thou wilt be able to access some of thy star power, but thou can never come home.”

“This isn’t home!” Crowley shouted. “I want to go home, I want to go home to him right the fuck now.”

“And thou accept that thou will not be able to return?”

“Yes! Yes, please, just let me go back to him.”

Iota Serpentis did something Crowley had never known her to do. She smiled. Not with lips, as she didn’t have a human form, but he could feel it nevertheless.

* * *

“Crowley! Oh please, darling, wake up …”

Austel had come to lying in the road, perfectly hale and whole. The moon was bright overhead, and in its light he could see Crowley lying in the road. The night was eerily still, with only the occasional owl’s cry or rustle of leaves to break the foreboding silence. They were only a couple of miles from St Steren, but they might have been a thousand miles away for as lonely and afraid as Austel felt.

“How will I find you?” he asked tearfully. “I don’t think I can get to the stars.”

When Crowley didn’t stir, Austel leaned down and kissed his forehead softly. He couldn’t find Crowley’s heartbeat, and he didn’t seem to be breathing … but maybe stars didn’t need to? Austel furiously scrubbed at the tears trickling down his face. He couldn’t lose hope. Crowley had said he would find a way to stay, and Austel believed him. But what if he wasn’t allowed to?

Standing, he looked up at the sky. “Please, if you can hear me, let him back. He wanted to stay …and I … I can’t imagine my life without ...”

At first, Austel didn’t notice that the night around him was getting brighter, beyond a sort of vague knowing, and an assumption that the moon must be coming out from behind a cloud. Then he looked down to find Crowley was glowing, so brightly that it was hard to look at him. 

“Cr … Crowley?”

The light radiated outward, effervescing in bubbles of stardust. Then a flash, like lightning, blinded Austel. When he was able to blink away the afterimage, the first thing he saw was Crowley standing in front of him with a look of wonder on his face. Ribbons of starlight trailed from his hair and clothes, billowing softly in the night breeze.

“Crowley, are you … are you leaving me?”

“No, angel.” Crowley wrapped both his arms tight around Austel, pressing their cheeks together. “I’m staying right here with you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Austel felt such joy it was as if he had his own ribbons of starlight radiating from his soul. Pulling back a little, his lips found Crowley’s and he kissed all his astonishment and delight right onto Crowley’s beautiful mouth.

“Then I hope you’re ready to grow old with me.”

Crowley gave him a brilliant smile. “I’m already pretty damn old. I’m ready to be young again with you.”

Then he pulled Austel into his arms and kissed him right there on the winding road, in the light of the moon and stars. When they finally drew apart, Crowley rubbed their noses together and winked.

“Guess this means you’ll let me move in with you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for coming on this journey with [Doorwaytoparadise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/profile) and I! Reading your comments along the way has been such a treat.
> 
> Austel and his star Crowley demanded an epilogue, and I am not complaining! I'll post it tomorrow :)
> 
> Also ... look at the art. I mean. The sketch of this was the original piece that I saw when making my list of artists I hoped to work with in the Reverse Bang, and now I see it completed, my mind is blown!


	8. Mazey Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Austel finally makes it to Mazey Day - and he and Crowley both have a surprise for the other.

“Bet you need a cuppa.” Crowley grinned, pouring some chamomile tea from Austel’s tartan flask, and handing it to him. Then he rummaged in his backpack and produced some apple crumble cupcakes. “Tempt you to one of these?”

“Temptation accomplished.” Austel laughed gratefully. It was late afternoon on Mazey Day, and despite his wide brimmed straw hat (which, despite Crowley’s protestations, he thought rather stylish), the long day in the sun had left Austel both exhausted and delighted. He’d sold a surprising number of pieces from his brand new Catch A Falling Star jewellery line (in which star motifs and gemstones the colour of Crowley’s eyes and hair seemed to feature rather a lot.) They’d taken regular breaks to watch the parades and enjoy the wide variety of entertainment, from samba bands to tarot readers, drumming to a group of people dressed as mermaids.

They’d arrived the night before, on Mazey Eve. Crowley had insisted on booking them a B&B, so Austel could get up the next day refreshed and ready for Mazey Day instead of driving down early from St Steren. Being there for Mazey Eve meant they were able to take in the Mazey Eve parade, which featured Penzance’s own Obby Oss (“they’re bloody everywhere, angel,” Crowley had laughed), and sit by the harbour watching the fireworks. 

The town looked incredibly festive with its midsummer greenery festooning the buildings, and colourful characters including Morris dancers, local brass bands, bards, and folklore enthusiasts dressed as fairies. Austel couldn’t remember a happier day.

By the time they got in the Bentley to go home, Austel was ready to drop. Crowley had discovered a love of classic cars, and got the Bentley for an excellent price from Arthur Young. He talked to it - her - as if she had a mind of her own, and in Austel’s opinion, drove her like she was a young race car, not a classic old lady. But only when he knew it was safe to.

“Do you want to stop off for dinner somewhere,” Crowley asked. “Or just grab fish and chips from the Star and go home?”

“Would that be alright, my love? I am rather ready to put my feet up.”

“‘Course it’s alright.” Crowley’s eyes didn’t leave the road, but Austel saw the warm smile, just for him. “Got a surprise for you at home, anyway.”

“Crowley! You sweet thing. Why?”

“‘Cause it took courage to come here today and sell your stuff, and I thought a bit of positive reinforcement wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Crowley, I’m not a pet.” Austel laughed, to cover his nerves. He had a surprise for Crowley too, he just wasn’t sure if he would be able to work up the courage to give it to him.

“Yeah, you are. Like a fluffy white dove or something.”

“Oh, lovely. Are you going to train me to always fly home?”

“Austel, sweetheart, you are already a champion homebody, and I love that about you. You hardly need any encouragement.”

Austel gently swatted Crowley’s thigh, laughing, as Comet Bay came into view in the distance. They were nearly home.

* * *

“Trust me, it’s worth putting off dinner just for a moment.”

Crowley covered Austel’s eyes with his hands and rather clumsily guided him through the cottage.

“Worth the bruises I’m going to have from when you said left instead of right, and I walked into the couch?”

“I’ll kiss it better later.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You’d better. OK Angel, you can look.” Crowley removed his hands from over Austel’s eyes. They stood on the garden path behind Comet Cottage. The garden was dark, but the patio area that Austel had kept meaning to tidy up had been transformed. 

A glorious, comfortable-looking two seater outdoor chair, piled with blankets, was positioned beside a fancy chiminea. Several slabs of stone, painted with stars and comets and galaxies, were propped up against the wall, and there were strings of soft lights and tiny star-shaped lanterns everywhere. Austel’s telescope took pride of place.

“Oh … oh my word.” Austel gripped Crowley’s arm. “How on earth did you…..?”

Crowley shrugged one shoulder. “Got the telescope fixed one day when you were working long hours at the store. Painted a few things, bought a few bits. Tracy let me hide them in the basement of the Falling Star and offered to bring it all over while we were away. You always wanted a stargazing garden.”

Austel stared in wonder, taking everything in, then flung his arms around Crowley. “Thank you! I love it, dear boy.”

Crowley kissed his cheek softly. “Get comfy, angel. I’ll fetch supper.”

Crowley returned from the kitchen a few minutes later with a tray bearing their plates of fish and chips, and two bottles of Cornish Knocker.

“For old time’s sake,” he said, as they clinked bottles. “To us.”

“To us.” Austel agreed. Then Crowley made a complicated gesture with his finger, and their plates of food started steaming, returned to their freshly-cooked state.

“That’s a rather splendid trick, dear. I think I’ll keep you around.”

“Damn right.”

They fell into a companionable silence then, eating their dinner and enjoying the peace and the sound of the sea. After they’d eaten, Crowley insisted on fetching them both cocoa while Austel peered at the sky through his newly-working telescope. After a few minutes, he sat back down beside Crowley, snuggling into his side and picking up his cocoa, as Crowley draped a thick red and black blanket around them both.

As they sat together watching the sky, a shooting star streaked across the blackness in a trail of silvery light.

“Friend of yours?” Austel teased, leaning up to nuzzle Crowley’s cheek.

“Shooting stars aren’t actually stars, they’re - oh you bastard, one day I won’t fall for that.”

“One day.”

“Better make a wish anyway, angel. It’s a St Steren tradition.”

Austel put his cocoa down, and turned towards Crowley. 

“Marry me. I’m so in love with you. Please say you’ll be mine forever.”

Crowley looked as surprised as Austel felt. He hadn’t meant to just blurt it out. He opened his mouth to tell Crowley as much, but before he could speak, Crowley had wrapped both arms tight around him and was saying, “Yes, yes, of course I will,” over and over.

When they managed to stop clinging to each other for a second, Austel felt himself blushing a little. “My dear, I had intended to do this right, get down on one knee …”

“On those flagstones? You’d never get up again.”

Austel laughed. “Be that as it may, cheeky thing, at least allow me to …”

He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and drew out a delicate ring of entwined yellow and rose gold, studded with the tiniest rubies. He held out a hand, and Crowley eagerly placed his own hand into it, so Austel could slip the ring onto his finger. Crowley watched, with tears welling in his eyes. “If I’d known you were down here, I’d have jumped out of the heavens to get to you.”

It was some time before they could bear to pull apart from each other. When they finally did, Crowley said, “That was some wish, angel.”

Austel gazed in wonder at his strange, beautiful star. “My dear, you’ve been making my wishes come true since the night you fell to earth.”

Crowley leaned forward at that and kissed him again.

Austel kissed him back gently, too overwhelmed with joy to speak. Then he snuggled into Crowley, who tucked the blanket around them as they lapsed into a contented silence, holding hands and watching the shimmering sky above, as the stars seemed to smile down on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we bid Austel and his star farewell *wipes a tear*. I had such a lovely time bringing Doorwaytoparadise's wonderful idea to life, and sharing my love of Cornwall with you all! Thank you for the lovely comments along the way and for caring about these two sweethearts ♥


End file.
